


Posing for the Family Portrait

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's family is simpler than it seems, making John even more complex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Posing for the Family Portrait

John had been openly staring for a solid forty minutes, when he normally tried to hide his stares. Sherlock ran through a list of things he’d done or said recently and couldn’t find anything that might be a bit not good. Except what he’d said just before they’d left to find that spree killer who was hunting at the clubs. He’d told John to wear the jeans that made his cock look two inches bigger.

John had turned an amusing shade of red before going up to his room, but not said anything about that being more than flatmates should know about each other. John had come back into the sitting room wearing the right jeans, so he couldn’t be that offended. For the last two months and six days, John hadn't protested when people assumed they were together. Sherlock figured he had another three months of getting John used to the idea that they were more than friends before the first adrenaline fueled kiss. 

“What, John?” 

John started, but didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He glanced away, before returning his gaze to his half empty and completely cold tea. “My Mum’s birthday is this weekend and she’d really like to meet you.” 

Sherlock picked his head up to stare at John. 

“Yes, Sherlock, I’m asking you to go with me this Saturday night and meet my family.” 

“Other people’s families aren’t really my area.” 

“Which is why I’ve put them off this long.” John sighed. “I’ll owe you a favor.” 

Sherlock’s brain presented him with several possibilities. John did most of what he did voluntarily, and the rest Sherlock talked him into. Granted, some things, like dressing up for the gay club, were unnecessary, things Sherlock just wanted to see if he could make John do. So what would John do with the magic word ‘favor’ attached? 

“If you insist.” Sherlock flopped his head back to the couch in a dramatic flourish calculated to irritate. “I will call in that favor.” 

A wad of newspaper bounced off Sherlock’s forehead, and he knew he’d annoyed John. That was good, as an irritated John wouldn’t think too much on what a favor for Sherlock might entail. Sherlock would, even if he had to escape to the laboratory in his mind palace to run the permutations. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ S<3J ˥(?)ל

The train ride to Cumbria took about four hours, and then they had to get a car for the other hour and half to Silloth. It passed as did any of their other long trips together, John reading and Sherlock thinking. The favor John had offered presented so many wonderful possibilities. Locked securely in his mind palace dungeon were several things Sherlock knew better than to ask about. His current favorite of the possible ones involved getting John to bring him samples of STD from the surgery. He didn’t know what for, he just loved that he could make John do it. Finally, they were walking toward a tidy, two story house, John’s hands playing nervously with the present in his jacket pocket. He went in without knocking, and shouted to the house as he hung up his jacket. 

“Sherlock and I have arrived.” 

A herd of elephants came down the stairs, disguised as Harry. She had an amused gleam in her eye and sat on the stairs so she’d have a good view. Sherlock gave her a nod of acknowledgement; they’d met a few times and only resisted coming to blows because John could take them both. A woman came in from the kitchen area, a dusting of flour on her version of John’s nose. 

“Henry, hurry up!” She bellowed over her shoulder before turning back to them. Her arms twitched and Sherlock recognized it as a desire to hug John. Not that Sherlock would admit to knowing that feeling. “John, love.” 

“Mum.” John stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. 

She returned the squeeze and Sherlock hid his arms behind his back. Those strong arms still wanted to hug John. 

Clearing his throat, John managed to break out of the hug and stand aside so he could see his Mum and Sherlock. “This is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is my Mum, Adel McCormick.” 

“A pleasure.” Shaking her hand, Sherlock managed to sound like he meant it, though he was wondering about the different last name. A back door creaked, and jogging footsteps crossed the kitchen. Sherlock looked up to see a third woman enter the hallway, her dishwater blonde hair mostly silver now. 

“Sherlock, this is my Ma, Henrietta Watson.” 

“Oh!” Sherlock didn’t think about how the exclamation would be interpreted, but he turned to look at John as understanding filled him. 

“You didn’t tell him.” Henry said, voice in that same calm tone John got before he started shooting things. 

“Sherlock doesn’t like being told things.” 

“I know it’s your birthday, Miss McCormick, but this is the best present John could have given me.” Sherlock was used to being the center of attention, even though he’d only ever sought out John’s attention, so he smiled as they stared at him. “John’s not ashamed of you, or me, he just wants everybody else to see how special you are. I supposed teasing at school about having two mothers taught him how easily people could hate for such a stupid reason. And that they expected him to be gay, showing that gay parents forced kids to be gay.” 

John licked his lips, which always distracted Sherlock, and looked away. 

“John didn’t want the world to think that, to have an argument for preventing gay marriage and adoptions, though he wasn’t adopted.” 

“Ma’s brother, Rob, provided some help for Mum to conceive us.” John muttered. 

“So John hit puberty, already more concerned with everyone else than himself. Repressed his lust for boys, so he could be the perfect straight kid of the gay parents. Doctor, rugby, army, all to disprove a stereotype to the world.” 

“Not just for that, but mostly. And I was lucky that I liked girls too, or I’d have never been able to.” 

“Johnny!” Henry cried, darting across the entryway to hug him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

John tried to shrug in the embrace, but her strength held him down. 

Sherlock grinned at the way her head fit under his chin, just the way John’s head fit under Sherlock’s when they leaned on each other for support. They were men chasing near death experiences; they didn’t hug. 

“I tried, but I didn’t know how to say it. So I thought I’d let Sherlock say it for me.” 

Sherlock’s grin faltered. John had planned this, used him to solve a relationship problem? Sherlock glanced at Harry, who looked annoyed that her mum’s hadn’t kicked Sherlock out already. Sherlock smiled at her; John was a genius in his own area, the one Sherlock wasn’t a genius in, and he didn’t use people. Harry rolled her eyes at him, and Sherlock stuck his tongue out. Mum giggled, in a slightly higher pitched voice than John’s. Three steps and she was hugging Sherlock. 

“Sorry,” She murmured in the region of his lungs. “Got tired of waiting for Henry to release John and I needed another hug.” 

“Quite all right.” Sherlock replied; he knew how hard it was to wait to hug John. “I’m not normally a person who hugs, or displays much in the way of physical affection, but I’ll make an exception for this family.” 

John looked at Sherlock over his Ma’s head, and something warm settled into Sherlock’s stomach at the look. That was how John looked at him most of the time, which looked a great deal like how his Mum was looking at John. 

“John?” Sherlock asked, suddenly unsure. 

John smiled with a challenge in his eyes. His Ma let go, and his Mum hugged him again, but John didn’t need to say the words for Sherlock to hear them. ‘Go on, John’s eyes said, deduce me.’ 

“John’s tired of hiding half of who he is to protect the statistics. He wants to admit he’s attracted to,” Sherlock stumbled over his deduction, not ready to believe it and went with a general description. “He’s attracted to men, too.” 

Ma gave a snort. “You daft git, he’s only brought two girlfriends home since he started dating. He brought you here to tell us all he’s in love with you.” 

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay.” John muttered, releasing his Mum and looking at a loss for where to put his hands. 

“You could have told me, like normal people would do.” Sherlock said. “But making me figure it out is so much more fun.” 

John smiled, pulling Sherlock to him like gravity. Sherlock closed the distance and bent down to find the correct angle for kissing John. The meshing of lips shortly went from being about angles to trying to breathe John in and melting around him. That tongue of John’s was every bit as active as it seemed, and seemed really comfortable in Sherlock’s mouth. It was the applause that pulled Sherlock back to reality, but he would have ignored it if John had. Harry looked ready to spit, but their mother's were applauding like mad. 

“I’d say get a room, but I don’t think John’s bed would survive it.” Ma said. 

Mum laughed, and stood on tiptoe to kiss Sherlock’s cheek. “Foods almost ready, so everyone go wash up. You two have a train ride home to talk.” 

Sherlock followed John to the bathroom on the first floor, Harry their disapproving chaperone. 

“A very long train ride home.” John muttered. 

Sherlock whispered as he walked into the bathroom first. “Not if I talk Mycroft into a helicopter.” 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ S<3J ˥(?)ל


End file.
